


Damages

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [28]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-19
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-02-12 22:43:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21484054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Catherine talks to Nick about an incident that lead to him walking around with bruises on his face.
Relationships: Nick Stokes & Catherine Willows
Series: Prompt Fics [28]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	Damages

**Author's Note:**

> For an anon who sent the prompt on tumblr! Warning for implied mention of sexual abuse.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

“Then why are there bruises all over your face?”

“It’s just...dirt. From working. In the garage.”

“Oh yeah?” Catherine crosses her arms. “Wipe it off.”

Nick quickly swipes his hand over his face. 

“Aw, see, won’t come off, guess I gotta go take a shower, excuse me--”

Catherine steps in front of Nick, uses her hand to grasp his chin, move his face to the side.

“Jesus, Nicky...”

“It’s-I’m fine, really,” he brushes off. 

“What were you think--”

“Already got an earful from Jim, too,” he interrupts, shaking himself out of Catherine’s grasp. He tries to walk away again, and this time she lets him get a few steps before he stops in his tracks. 

“Well, Jim Brass isn’t your supervisor, Nick. I am. And you’re gonna have to talk to me about this sooner or later. So c’mon. Spill the beans,” she gestures for him to follow her into her office. 

He shuts the door behind him, a little more roughly than he should have, leans forward against the chair that he doesn’t sit on top of. Catherine sits with her hands folded, though she flexes them open and into the air when he doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on his white-turning knuckles.

“What the hell happened, Nicky?” Catherine asks in an exasperated sigh, hunching her shoulders up. “From what I understand, based on the half-assed report you gave of the incident, you go knocking on doors in the neighborhood, make it about three interviews in before you and this...Dave Stevens start throwing fists around, and you nearly break the man’s nose.” 

“He...he did bad things to his daughter, Catherine. His _nine year old _daughter.” 

“And how do you know that?”

“I saw the way she looked at me, when she answered the door. The way she cowered when he pushed her away. I just...I just _know, _okay?”

Catherine heaved a deep breath, fully understanding why Nick was so reluctant to share details, why he allowed that animalistic instinct to break through, why he always seems to become so blind-sided when it comes to cases involving young children.

But while it was an explanation of his behavior, it certainly wasn’t an excuse.

“We’re not...That’s not...Listen. That man, that _piece of shit _will get what he deserves, okay? But we can’t...we can’t just take matters into our own hands, Nicky.”

She walks around the desk, puts her hands on his shoulders, meets him in the eye. 

“And you certainly don’t need to do it _alone.” _

Nick scrunches his bruised face.

“What do you mean?”

“While it was a bit hard to convince them after your...interference, Child Services has taken the daughter into custody, the father is pending a full trial to determine his sentence.” 

“How...?”

“Testimony and eye witness statements, including a copy of your report--which, next time, Nicky, maybe a few more details?--And a personal promise from Brass after he, uh, did a sweep of the house to confirm a few things, after you left the scene.”

“I don’t...I don’t know what to say. Thank you,” Nick embraces Catherine in a tight hug, which she reciprocates for a few moments, before tearing away.

“Don’t thank me just yet,” she reaches behind her to grab a stack of unfinished paperwork. “Consider this your punishment.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” Nick smiles with a sparkle in his eyes. 

“And...to conceal the bruises, in case you don’t want anyone else to see the damage,” Catherine tells him as she places a small pouch on top of the stack of folders.

His smile falters, and he nods with a saddened half-smile.

“I think it’s too late for that, Cath. Thanks.” 


End file.
